by Paige Green
Now approaching the age of forty and noticing how the game changed for the worse each year, he was ready to retire and start a family.
“Would you lower your voice in my crib?” Knowledge said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“My bad, but I handled them two young niggas for you today,” Psycho said before taking a seat in a nearby chair.
“Alright, man. But look, I’m gone call you later. I need you to step out while I need to talk to Frank,” Knowledge said, referring to his right hand man that was standing next to him.
Psycho ice-grilled Frank as he slowly stood to his feet and walked out his office. Taking a seat in front of Knowledge, Frank kept a stone face as he folded his beasty arms under his chest.
“What’s up, my nigga?” Frank said in his deep, baritone voice.
“Did anybody get word back on that nigga Shemar’s whereabouts yet?”
“Yeah, that nigga be all on the Eastside and shit. Why didn’t you get that nigga Psycho to handle him yet?”
“That’s what I want you to do, homie. You know that nigga fucked it up the first time, killing the nigga’s son and fucking raping his girl? Fuck no! I want you to handle that nigga, I should’ve told you to handle it in the first place,” Knowledge said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You know I got you. Why you still got that nigga on your payroll, let alone the team, anyway? He doesn’t listen at all and he’s sloppy with his shit,” Frank asked, referring to Psycho.
“Because that nigga handle his business with no questions asked, even though he crazy is hell.”
“Yeah you’re right. But it’s time for that nigga to go, man. He diverting too much attention on us and the shit is getting old.”
“True, it’ll only be a matter of time,” Knowledge said, nodding his head in agreement.
************
“There go that nigga Psycho right there,” Tyson said as he watched Psycho drive out of Knowledge’s mansion.
Remy watched with a hawk’s eye as Psycho’s Jaguar took a sharp turn, completely passing them up. Tyson started his ignition before following after him, remaining three cars behind him, though.
For the past two weeks, Remy and Tyson had been following Psycho, carefully learning his every move and where he laid his head at. After the second week of finally getting his daily schedule down pack, Remy finally decided that it was time to go in for the kill.
Dressed in an all-black Donna Karan leather spandex catsuit, all-black knee-length combat boots, and an all-black mini trench coat, she bit down on her lips as she tapped her leg uncontrollably. In between her legs she had a duffle bag that was filled with ropes, knives, extra ammunition, and everything else she needed to complete the job. Reaching into her duffle bag, she pulled out a black scarf before tying it around her neck.
Her mouth watered, heart pumped, and knees buckled at the thought of finally having Psycho’s throat. When Psycho finally arrived at his house, he hoped out his car and made his way into his crib.
“Are you sure you ready for this?” Tyson asked, gently placing his hand over Remy’s.
Gripping the .45 caliber in her hand, she smiled mischievously as she placed the scarf over her mouth and tossed the duffle bag over her shoulders before removing the safety off of her gun and discreetly stepping out the car.
Tyson followed suit, slipping a ski-mask over his face as he clutched his desert eagle before stepping out of his car. Kneeling low, the couple remained discreet as they walked onto Psycho’s porch before kicking his door in.
“What the fuck?” Psycho yelled, caught off guard.
His heart almost dropped as two guns stared back at him.
“Get the fuck over there on the couch,” Remy growled in a low, icy tone.
Psycho threw his hands up in surrender before backing up and taking a seat on his couch.
“What the fuck is this all about? If you want money, I can get you that. Just tell me how much y’all need,” Psycho cried as sweat started to tumble down his forehead.
Remy remained quiet as she took the butt of her gun and slapped it across his face, instantly drawling blood.
“Shut the fuck up, you pussy! Don’t nobody want your fucking money. I want your fucking life!” Remy retorted, coldly.
Tyson reached into the duffle bag, pulling out a couple of ropes and a bottle filled with gasoline before walking into Psycho’s kitchen and retrieving a chair as he poured the gasoline around the living room and kitchen with every step he took. Placing the chair in the living room, Tyson aggressively grabbed Psycho by his neck, forcing him to stand up before pushing him on the chair.
Once Psycho was completely tied up, Remy took an ice pick from out the duffle bag before gently placing it on his stomach.
Bucking his eyes in fear, Psycho clenched his teeth as the sharp object slowly penetrated his stomach.
“Now who’s the bitch? I see you aren’t so tough now, huh? What happened to big, badass Psycho?” Remy growled, before shoving the ice pick completely into his stomach, causing him to wail out a loud, blood-curdling scream.
“Why… are you doing…this?” Psycho struggled to say as his chest heaved in and out and blood drenched his midsection.
Removing the scarf from around her face, Remy clenched her teeth before she yelled,
“Do you remember me, motherfucker?”
Groaning in pain, Psycho’s eyes bucked as he glanced into Remy’s demon looking eyes.
“Remember what the fuck you did to me and my son? Remember, huh?” Remy yelled angrily before removing a pocket knife from her back pocket and begin stabbing him.
Releasing a heart-wrenching scream, Psycho’s eyes watered as he felt his life slip away. His whole body was drenched with blood and gripped with pain.
“Tell me motherfucker, before you die, why your bitch ass had to kill an innocent baby? What the fuck did you get out of that?”
“He…he hired me…to do it….”Psycho said taking long, deep breaths.
“Knowledge, right? Yeah, believe me, that nigga going to get his, too.”
“No…not Knowledge, She….Shem…Shemar, did.”
Stopping in her tracks, Remy glanced at Tyson as her heart slammed into her chest. Both of their mouths dropped open in shock as Remy turned her attention back to Psycho.
“What the fuck you just say?”
“It…..was…a set …up,” Psycho said before slipping out of consciousness.
“He’s losing too much blood, that nigga dying!” Tyson said before running over to Psycho and slapping him with the butt of his gun, trying his best to awake him.
Remy and Tyson watched as Psycho slightly opened his eyes before violently coughing up globs of blood. Inhaling deeply, Psycho took one last look at Remy before taking his last breath. She watched as his eyes stared aimlessly into the air.
“Aye! What the fuck is going on in there?” Psycho’s neighbor, Sheila, yelled as she banged on his front door.
Jumping in fear, Tyson and Remy quickly gathered their belongings before running towards the back door.
“Wait, hold up for a second,” Remy said before pulling out a cigarette from her trench coat and lighting it.
Throwing the cigarette on the floor, she watched as a wave of fire formed before Psycho’s whole living room became engulfed in flames.
Grabbing Remy by her hand, Tyson and Remy quickly ran out the back door, disappearing into the dark night.
Chapter Six
“Oh shit! Oh shit! Do you think they seen us?” Remy asked, trembling as her and Tyson hopped into the car.
Putting his key into the ignition, he shook his head as he darted his eyes one last time at what was left of Psycho’s now burned down apartment.
Remy’s chest heaved in and out as she threw her head back onto the headrest and collapsed her hands over her face. Her hands trembled, heart raced, and legs shook uncontrollably as she watched a handful of police cars and fire trucks race by.
Both Remy and Tyson remai
ned silent until Tyson pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition. Gently placing his hand on Remy’s lap, he glanced into her eyes and said,
“Look Remy, you did good. I know what he said might’ve surprised you, shit it surprised me. But, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just mad because I didn’t get to do everything that I planned! I wanted that motherfucker to suffer! But he said Shemar had set me up? Do you think Shemar really would do some foul, fucked up shit like that?”
“I don’t know, babe,” Tyson said, honestly.
“I mean I know we didn’t get along a lot but for him to set me and my son up? I just can’t digest that,” Remy said as she shook her head in disbelief.
Stepping out of the car, Remy clenched her fists and hunched her shoulders as she walked onto Tyson’s porch before opening his front door. Tyson followed behind her, remaining quiet and trapped in his own thoughts.
“What kind of bitch ass nigga would set up his own fucking girl and son? Type shit dude was on?” Tyson thought to himself as he removed his coat off his masculine body.
He watched as Remy flopped down on the couch before throwing her head back, silently drowning into her own misery. Taking a seat next to her, he took her hand before softly placing his hand under her chin, gently forcing her to stare into his eyes.
“You need to stop stressing yourself so much about this, Remy. We’ll find out sooner or later if Shemar did this to you and Jeremiah. And, if he did, he’ll get dealt with, just like Psycho. But only this time, it’ll be ten times worse,” Tyson assured her.
Remy nodded her head in agreement before inhaling deeply and flaring her nose.
“Would you stop doing that shit, too?” Tyson asked.
“Doing what?”
“Holding shit in and walking around all tough and shit, Remy. It’s me! You don’t have to act like that around me! Show some emotion, stop being so damn hard on yourself.”
Glancing down at the floor, Remy continued to nod as she threw her head into hands. With her body shaking uncontrollably, Tyson slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulder and whispered into her ear,
“Let it out.”
With her lips quivering, soul shaking in grief and heart breaking, she cried an agonizing cry.. She took all the emotion she shamefully held in, out with each scornful tear. Tyson continued to rub her back gently as her body became limp in his arms.
Standing to his feet, he gently scooped Remy’s trembling body into his arms before carrying her into his bedroom. Placing her onto his bed, he helped her dress out of her tight catsuit before dressing out of his clothes and climbing into bed next to her.
Pulling her body close, he held her tightly in his arms as if it would be the last time they’d see each other.
“It’ll be okay, baby. You got me, I’ll always be here for you,” Tyson assured her as he held her closer.
A grief-stricken Remy nodded her head as she slowly wiped her tears that decorated her face. Feeling safe tucked into Tyson’s arms, her body went limp and her mind went blank as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
*********
“Good morning, baby,” Tyson said as he smiled down at Remy who’d just woken up.
“Good morning,” she said in almost a whisper.
She clutched her head into her hand as she moaned in pain before sitting up. Her eyes were still blood-shot red from crying all night. Glancing up at Tyson, she slightly smiled when she noticed him standing before her, butt-naked and holding a tray with a plate filled with breakfast on it.
“I made your favorite for breakfast,” Tyson said before walking up towards her and taking a seat on the bed.
“Which one? You or the food?” Remy joked.
“You choose, baby.”
Tossing her head back and rubbing the back of her neck, she then took the tray of food out of Tyson’s hands before placing it on a nearby night stand. Standing to her feet and walking on the other side of the bed where Tyson sat, she then kneeled to her knees before positioning herself in between Tyson’s masculine legs.
Grabbing Tyson’s thick penis, she stuck her slim yet long tongue out before teasing the head of his penis, instantly causing Tyson’s body to tense and a soft groan to escape his lips.
Lifting his penis up, she slowly traced her tongue up and down before gliding the rest of his penis into her mouth, deep throating him.
“Oh shit, Remy,” he moaned like a female.
She smiled devilishly as she continued to lick and suck his penis as if her life depended on it.
His toes curled and muscles tensed with every graceful lick and suck she gave his penis.
“Get up, baby,” he instructed before gently grabbing her hands and lifting her up.
Positioning herself on top of Tyson, Remy moaned as he gently placed his hands on her waist before slowly gliding himself into her.
It felt as if all the stress she had within her came out with each thrust and long stroke of Tyson’s thick member.
Tyson held her close into his arms as he reached deeper and deeper into her.
“Please, give me my son back,” Remy whispered into his ear, stunning him.
“What did you just say?” Tyson asked confusingly as he stopped stroking her and glanced into her eyes.
“I want my child back, baby. This time, by a real man,” Remy said in a serious tone.
Caught completely off guard, Tyson searched her mirrors to decipher if she was serious or not.
“Look Remy,” Tyson said before standing up, with himself still inside of her, and gently placing her onto the bed before pulling out of her. “I would love to have a child with you, baby. But let’s be real, you’re not ready for all that right now. You’re thinking off your emotions and not your heart, baby. I promise you, when all of this is over, I’ll give you not only a child, but the world, also.”
Remy nodded her head as tears formed into her eyes.
A few hours later, Tyson had arrived to his job on the North side and parked his squad car in the parking lot. Stepping out of his car dressed in his navy blue police uniform, he clenched his jaw as he walked into the precinct.
“Good morning Officer Vicks,” Tyson’s partner, Officer Jakes said as Tyson walked towards his office.
“Good morning Jakes. What’s been up?”
“To hell if I know! Everyone’s going crazy about that kid’s house that been lit on fire after he’d been tortured. Whoever wanted this kid dead got their wish, that kid been slashed at least ten times,” Jakes said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Tyson stopped in his tracks before turning to look at his partner. Walking to Jakes’s desk, he asked, “Oh really? What’s the victim’s name? Who’s on the case?”
“From what I hear, his name is Steven Goods but his street name is Psycho. And, Officer Bleeks is on the job.”
Tyson nodded his head as he walked away. Walking towards Officer Bleeks’s desk, he silently watched as Bleeks looked over at the file with the name “Steven Goods” written on it.
“What’s up, Bleeks?” Tyson asked, startling him.
“Damn man, you can’t be doing that shit! You scared the hell out of me!” Bleeks said, collapsing his hand over his chest. "But nothing, on this case trying to look over this man’s record, what’s up?”
“Nothing, but that Steven Goods dude?” Tyson asked, nonchalantly.
“Yeah, Why? What’s it to you?” Bleeks replied.
“Nothing but don’t you worry about this case, Bleeks, I got this,” Tyson said before reaching onto Bleeks’s desk and picking up all the information Bleeks had on Psycho.
“What? Are you sure? I was just getting into this!”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I got this young bull, don’t worry,” Tyson said before walking away, leaving Bleeks throwing daggers at his back.
Tyson, who had been involved with the law for over decade now, had been one of the best police officers on his team since the day he’d arrived. After five years of being a mar
ine, Tyson left the marines to challenge himself even more. After arriving back to Pittsburgh, he couldn’t help but noticed how the crime rates went up since he’d left to go overseas. Now being a part of the team for years, he worked his way to the top and was practically one of the greatest on the force.
Walking into his office and placing the file onto his desk, he sat down and began to look over Psycho’s records. The armed robbery and attempted murder charges didn’t surprise him at all. What did surprise him was how Psycho was still in the streets and not serving a life sentence, when he was still living.
Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone, he dialed his informant’s number before placing his phone to his ear.
“Yeah, what’s up?” The informant answered the phone.
“I need you to meet me in an hour.”
“C’mon man, I thought you were done with me! What’s up, now?”
“Don’t be asking me questions, you hear? Now I know you don’t want to be smack with those two kilos of cocaine I found in your car now, do you? Now, I said meet me in an hour at the coffee shop on the Southside, so be there,” Tyson demanded before ending the call.
An hour later, Tyson pulled up to a coffee shop on the Southside and parked his squad car across the street before stepping out. With his face cleanly shaven and eyes chinked up, almost every woman that passed by were mesmerized by his chiseled features and seduced him with their eyes. Tyson ignored them all as he walked into the coffee shop and took a seat in back of the café.
Fifteen minutes later, Tyson watched as his informant walked into the café, darting his eyes around the shop and glancing behind him. Twisting his nose up, he clenched his jaw as he took a seat across from Tyson and held his head down.
“What the fuck do you want now?” Frank, Knowledge’s best friend asked in a demanding tone.
“Watch how you talking to me Frank,” Tyson hissed venomously as he clenched his jaw. “Now listen, motherfucker, I thought from day one we agreed that you’d keep it real with me, and I’d keep it real with you, didn’t we?”
